Part 2

If my opinion be worth any thing, of which you must be the judges, I would recommend the establishment of schools in every neighbourhood; but upon a very different foundation from that which generally obtains. Instead of an itinerant schoolmaster, who goes forth in the latter part of autumn in search of subsistence through the winter months, often without qualifications for the task he solicits, and not unfrequently of equivocal moral reputation, select a teacher estimable for his private virtues as a man, and respectable for his literary and scientific acquirements; remunerate him with a liberal salary; erect a suitable and comfortable building for the accommodation of the school: supply it with maps, globes, &c., and commence a library of useful books. Send your children regularly to school throughout the year, and thus make their education as much a business, and duty, as the cultivation of your farms. Short of this, will not fulfil the obligations which every parent owes to his offspring. We are social beings, and our prosperity and happiness depend primarily upon ourselves, and secondarily upon others; so that we are advancing our own interests and comforts, when we promote that of those by whom we are surrounded. In every neighbourhood in the country there are a few individuals whose pecuniary means will not permit them to defray the expenses of education, which the more wealthy can afford, and the condition of the indigent has been seriously affected in this respect, by the institution of _boarding schools_. To those seminaries, the children of the affluent are sent; the common schools are consequently neglected; the poor go uninstructed, and a wide, and fatal distinction is thus created, among the inhabitants of the same vicinage. Rather, fellow citizens, than perpetuate this sort of classification in society, direct your attention to the formation of good schools at home, to which every child may be admitted; where all may partake of the same common benefits and blessings. You will thus place all on a par in the advantages of instruction, create in the minds of all, the same respect for those moral obligations which hold the community together in the bond of safety and peace, and confer upon your offspring the most solid security.

A youth, the son of one who is competent to defray the expense of his education at a boarding school, or college, is sent from home at the age of sixteen; is absent three or four years; has formed new associations, and contracted new notions; he returns to his birth-place; he has outgrown the recollections, and intimacies of his childhood; he feels a sort of elevation above the children of his neighbourhood, who have been groping in ignorance during his absence; he stands aloof; jealousy takes hold on the minds of those who observe this difference, and every evil passion begins its operation; the consequences are as sad, as they are certain.

Contemplate the reverse of the picture. Behold the youth of adjoining farms for several miles in circumference, collected together in one school; pursuing the same studies; partaking of the same general care, in a moral and religious point of view, which every conscientious teacher will find it his pleasure to extend toward his pupils; participating in the same innocent recreations; growing up together with similar views of private duty, and public obligation; witness such an instance as this, and you may be assured that from hence will proceed much which will dignify and adorn the locality, where it is found to exist.

As these reflections have occurred to me, I have taken the freedom of presenting them to your consideration. I am influenced by no other motive than that which would induce me to be the humblest agent in promoting the true interests of our country, and enlarging, if it were in my power, the circle of human happiness.

CIVIS.

FOR THE RURAL MAGAZINE.

HISTORY.

There is scarcely any thing which is more injurious to the mind, or which will more effectually prevent the acquisition of knowledge, than a habit of reading for amusement only.--For, it will necessarily happen, that impressions, which have not been strengthened by reflection, will be quickly obliterated; and we cannot expect to derive permanent advantage from the mere pursuit of temporary enjoyment.

To obviate the effects of a practice so pernicious, and to accustom the mind to the investigation of causes, the study of history is peculiarly adapted, for while it furnishes to the reflecting mind, ample room for the exercise of its powers, it is in itself, sufficiently attractive, to engage the attention of the most careless reader, it is indeed delightful, to

"Steal From all we may be, or have been before;

to associate with men, upon whom a world has gazed with fear and wonder, to mingle in the conflicts Of nations, and to dwell upon the restlessness of ambition, the fearless perseverence of patriotism: nor is it less instructive to mark the gradual unfoldings of virtuous or vicious propensities, and to observe how frequently the sacrifice of all the enjoyments of life to the attainment of some favourite objects has been rewarded, with the hopeless gloom attendant upon satiety. History may thus be said to convey to us the experience of ages; and he must be an indifferent or a prejudiced observer, who cannot find his own feelings portrayed in the motives which it developes.

But, with whatever views we may have undertaken this important study, we shall find it fruitless of permanent benefit, unless we shall have been impressed with the conviction of the absolute necessity of examining into the evidence of facts, and the correctness of deductions. It is thus only that we can be preserved from the danger of imbibing erroneous opinions on subjects affecting the common prejudices of mankind, or the peculiar doctrines of our authors. It is this assumption of popular sentiments which has degraded the human character, and reduced the highest intellectual powers to a dependence upon the lowest; and it is this reliance upon the impartiality of the historian, which has lent its assistance to the speculations of a false philosophy, in leading men into all the wanderings of scepticism. Let the student of history who is in pursuit of truth, endeavour to acquaint himself with the private opinions of the author whom he has taken for his guide, and let him beware, lest he admit any conclusion, however unimportant, which may seem to be at variance with the dictates of reason or of experience. Two important ends will thus be attained. By establishing a connection between the events detailed in history, and the reasonings founded upon them, they will be more likely to be retained in the memory; and by convincing himself of the fallacies in the arguments of its opponents, the reality of any truth will be more deeply impressed upon the mind. He who is thus habituated to scrutiny, will derive instruction from the errors of those with whom he is conversant; and may be compared (to borrow from the beautiful simile of bishop Horne,) to those who visit the country in spring, for whom "the very hedges are in bloom, and every thorn produces a a flower."

C.

ORIGINAL CORRESPONDENCE.

FOR THE RURAL MAGAZINE.

The following is an extract of a letter from the late President Adams, to a friend of the editors. Any thing from the pen of this eminent and venerable man will be read with interest, and ought to be public property. The anecdote is characteristic, and the obvious moral influence to be deduced from it, will strike the mind of every attentive reader.

_Quincy, January_ 12th, 1820.

DEAR SIR.--I thank you for your New-Year's letter, &c. * * * * As agriculture is the nursing mother of us all, it cannot be too assiduously cultivated; nor is it likely to be too much honoured, while mercantile profits are so much greater, and military glory is esteemed the highest glory!

The "American"[1] is an able writer; but I wish he had avoided so many appearances of endeavouring to justify, or at least to apologize for slavery in general. His arguments _ad hominem_ from the Bible, reminded me of an anecdote, which as I am an old man, and as old age has a privilege to be talkative and narrative, I will attempt to relate: In the winter of '76, Mr. Paine's Common Sense and my Thoughts on Government, made their appearance in public, the one not long after the other. Common Sense recommended the Thoughts on Government; an organization in three distinct departments, as independent of each other as human beings can be;--the legislature to consist of three branches. Mr. Paine came flying to my apartment, to reproach me for publishing a monarchico, aristicratico, democratico system. He scolded violently, but I soothed him down by laughing at him in my turn. Paine, said I, how could you be such an abominable hypocrite, as to pretend to prove in your Common Sense from the Old Testament, that monarchy was not lawful by the word of GOD? This struck him dumb for a moment, but recovering himself, and shrugging his shoulders, and laughing, said, with great contempt; "I believe nothing of the Old Testament, nor the New neither;" and then pausing, said, "I have had thoughts of publishing my opinions upon religion, but upon the whole I have concluded to put _it_ off till the latter part of my life." This plan he consistently pursued.

[1] The author of a long letter to the "Edinburgh Reviewers," published in the National Intelligencer.

I am not sorry his bones are gone to England, to moulder in the soil where they grew; for I claim neither to myself or to my country, any honour from having once supported them.

I am, Sir, your obliged friend, and humble servant,

JOHN ADAMS.

FAMILIAR LETTERS

_From an Englishman in this country to his Friend at home._

(Communicated for the Rural Magazine.)

No. II.

_Philada. Sept. 16, 1819._

My Dear G.

You know how very apt persons are to form an opinion of other persons with whom accident or design makes them acquainted, either on the _very_ wise principles of Lavater, or the _still wiser_ principles of Doctor--what's his name--(I wish I could forget as easily the labour I lost in studying him)--who first conceived craniology. You know also that I had every predisposition to the study of both these abstruse sciences, and the consequent deductions; so you will not be much surprised when I tell you that I have employed the time that has elapsed since the date of my last, in observing the physiognomy of Philadelphia. I did this, before I trespassed on the good-will, the hospitality, or the politeness of any of its citizens. You will observe I am perfectly distinct in my classification, and I beg of you to remember this, when you peruse any of my rambling epistles hereafter. My letters would, I hope, have commanded the civil attention of any person to whom they were addressed, independent of any particular kindness to which the recommendation of our venerable Quaker friend D---- of London would on the principle of reciprocity entitle me. But before I penetrated like Asmodeus in "Le Diable Boiteaux," into the domestic circle, the parlour, the halls, the tables, or the toilettes, or (shall I say it) to the counter and the desk. I wished to see the roofs, at least, if I could not see through them. So for the last week I have been studying physiognomies. There can be no need of apology to you my friend, who, (Heaven be praised) have never had occasion to leave the precincts of your ancient patrimony for any thing but pleasure, for dilating on a city that so far as it regards myself, has hitherto been on a par with Herculaneum or Pompeia. Some manuscripts and some printed accounts I _have_ seen, but like those saved from the lava of Vesuvius, they were hardly worth unfolding. Indeed, I always pitied poor Sir Humphrey for so incomprehensible a task. He had better have staid at home, and made experiments in separating the brick and mortar from the old ruins lord L---- boasts of having been in his family, at the smallest calculation from William Rufus. I do wonder what it could have been that the ancients took such care of.

Well--I have _seen_ Philadelphia.--And if it were not for the dull monotony of its right angles--the wide streets that throw such an immense space between your lodgings and any desired object--the want of all the cries I have been used to in all the popular cities I have frequented, except, indeed, the solitary halloo of a _sweep_, (and then only before one gets up in a morning) and the everlasting _gong_ that wakes me from my sweetest slumber, and dreams of home, with all its indefinable attractions, I would say that Philadelphia was a very decent, orderly, well arranged, and handsome city. But give me Hogarth's line of beauty; I hate your everlasting parallels that run together to infinity, and never unite. By the way I am told that I shall be amply gratified in this respect in New York and Boston. There is only one street in this city, called Dock street, that is entitled to any claim to my fancy; and that is too broad, and nobody lives in it--all shops and warehouses.

The weather is remarkably fine,--every body complains of a want of rain:--for my part I must confess I had enough at home; and if I must find fault with the climate, it is too hot. Yet I do not find the lassitude I expected, consequent on exercise in the open air. Notwithstanding a mid-day sun, that in England we should have thought intolerable, a young gentleman with whom I formed an acquaintance at our excellent hotel, prevailed upon me to take a promenade along the Philadelphia Bond street, which here is denominated Chesnut street. We saw some mansions that would not have disgraced one of our fashionable squares;--some ladies that would have honoured the very first equipage that sports in Hyde Park. Only a few could boast of our Saxon complexion; but their forms were cast in a superior mould;--this I apprehend is aboriginal--and although I cannot learn that any are willing to acknowledge their derivation from the native Indians, several circumstances induce me to believe there has been a greater mixture with the first occupants of this vast continent than has been generally supposed. But more of this hereafter--if in my contemplated visit next summer to the falls of Niagara, I should meet with some of the _deer_ skinned heroes and heroines of this western hemisphere. I have laid all those of the sock and buskin on the shelf, and am enthusiast enough to expect perfection among the savages of North America. Why should I not? Through all the obloquy that has been thrown upon them by their ruthless despoilers,

"More savage still than they,"

through all that inveteracy of feeling which those who injure universally entertain--and "they who injure never pardon," you may still find a confession, or rather an admission of their virtues and their talents, of their magnanimity of character, and their elevation of soul. Not merely that indifference to privation and bodily suffering which we have been taught, was characteristic of savage life, but in spite of the natural principle of retaliation and revenge, (and I will maintain that it is a natural principle) they have evinced that virtue which the Bible has never taught many of us who have had access to it--_forgiveness of our enemies_.

Do not, however, think that I have lost myself in the interminable forests which still remain to the original proprietors of this continent--or that I have assumed the rifle and the moccasin. I should even prefer taking up my residence in this place which you know we have always considered one of the advanced posts in the march of civilization. It is true I have not yet descended from the roofs as aforesaid, to see what kind of an animal a Philadelphian really is in his own family circle, and shall have to defer a picture of this non-descript till opportunity of observation occurs. I have as yet seen only the outside. I have seen the Pennsylvania hospital externally; I have seen the figure of old William Penn standing like a good old fashioned broad brimmed sentinel before the door of the edifice, like all sentries exposed to the wind and the weather, with his head as it were drooping over the fine hot-house plants that surround him. But a bronze statue of the old gentleman I must confess seemed rather _outre_, although he richly deserved an equipment in that same costume from the perseverance which history tells us he evinced in the strife with the bailiffs that beset him in our old island. But let that pass; I would consent to be surrounded by tipstaves all my life to leave such a character as he did behind.--I have seen the Academy of Fine Arts, most modestly retiring from public view, behind a range of buildings that some of the cits have unconscionably erected on the front of the street, thus clearly evincing their disposition, to use the words of my Chesnut street friend, to throw the fine arts in the _back ground_. By the way the good people here are said to be (by the New Yorkers at least) most intolerably given to _punning_, and I must admit that some of the gentlemen who attend our excellent ordinary, have put off a few attempts at that vile species of wit, of a most contemptible character. I should, however, be very sorry to pass an opinion on the whole genus by the few specimens I have seen. Philadelphia is really a very handsome city; yet to take a panoramic view of it, _you_ would be exceedingly disappointed. There are no steeples, or rather there is _one_, and that a very decent one--the architecture of which is by no means contemptible; but then there is _but one_ steeple in a city of upwards of fifteen thousand houses, principally constructed of brick. If there were only a standard or ensign appended to its spire, which is about 200 feet from the ground, and that standard in proportion to its height, this goodly town would look like one grand encampment. Few of the houses exceed three stories, of about ten or twelve feet each. The city is however, flanked by two shot towers, one in the southeast, the other in the northwestern extremity; which afford some relief to the dead uniformity in the general aspect of the town. How successful the proprietors of these said towers may have been in the pursuit of their vocation, I know not; but for ornament to this place, I would not give one steeple, like that which is bottomed in the good old diocesan episcopal church for a thousand of them.

You see I have obeyed the injunction laid on me at parting, to express every thing as it presented itself to my observation, but in nothing can you find more sincerity of feeling than when I assure you neither time nor distance has diminished the warmth of affection with which I continue to be your friend.

_Treatise on Agriculture._

SECT. II.

Of the actual state of Agriculture in Europe.

This is very different in different states, and even in different parts of the same state; its greater or less degree of perfection, depending on causes physical, or political, or both. Where a state, or part of a state, from _soil_, _climate_, _manners_, or _geographical position_, draws its principal subsistence from the fishery or the chase, as in the more northern parts of Europe, agriculture will not succeed; when a state is from any cause both essentially maritime or manufacturing, as in England, or principally manufacturing, as in Prussia; where public opinion has degraded manual labour, as in Spain, Portugal, and the Papal territory; or where laws villainize it, as in Russia, Prussia, Poland, Hungary, &c. &c. it is in vain to expect pre-eminent agriculture.--These principles will receive illustration as we go along.

1. In the Campania of Rome, where in the time of Pliny were counted twenty-three cities, the traveller is now astonished and depressed at the silence and desolation that surround him.--Even from Rome to Trescati, (four leagues of road the most frequented) we find only an arid plain, without trees, without meadows, natural or artificial, and without villages, or other habitation of man! Yet is this wretchedness not the fault of soil or climate, which (with little alteration[2]) continue to be what they were in the days of Augustus. "_Man is the only growth that dwindles here_," and to his deficient or ill directed industry, are owing all the calamities of the scene.[3] Instead of the hardy and masculine labours of the field; the successors of Cato and of Pliny employ themselves in fabricating _sacred vases, hair powders and pomatums, artificial pearls, fiddle strings, embroidered gloves, and religious relics_! They are also great collectors of pictures, statues, and medals--"dirty gods and coins," and find an ample reward in the ignorance and credulity of those who buy them.

[2] The climate of Italy is now warmer than it was in the Augustan age, which Buffon ascribes to the draining of great tracts of swampy lands in Germany.

[3] "Un Romain meme le plus indigent rougiroit de cultiver la terre." Bosc.

2. How different from this picture is that of _Tuscany_! where the soil, though less fertile,[4] is covered with grains, with vines, and with cattle; and where a surface of 1200 square leagues, subsists a population of nine hundred and fifty thousand inhabitants, of whom eighty thousand are agriculturists. It may amuse, if it does not instruct, the reader, to offer a few details of a husbandry, among the most distinguished of the present age. The plough of the north of Europe, as of this country, has the powers of a wedge, and acts perpendicularly; but that of Tuscany resembles a shovel, is eight or nine inches long, and nearly as broad, and cuts the earth horizontally. This instrument is particularly adapted to the loose and friable texture of the soil. A second plough, of the same shape, but of smaller size, follows that already described, and with the aid of the hoe and the spade,[5] throws the earth, already broken and pulverised, into four feet ridges, or beds, on which the crop is sown. The furrows answer a threefold purpose; they drain the beds of excessive moisture, ventilate the growing crops, and supply paths for the weeders.

[4] "Two thirds of Tuscany consist of mountains." Vol. viii. p. 232. _Geographic, Mathematique et Phisique_: See also Forsyth's remarks, p. 80, where are detailed the principal causes of her prosperity. "Leopold," says he, "in selling the crown lands, studiously _divided large tracts_ of rich but neglected land, into _small properties_. His favourite plan of encouraging agriculture consisted, not in _boards_, _societies_, and _premiums_, but in giving _the labourer a security and interest in the soil_--in multiplying small freeholders--in extending the livelli, or life leases, &c. &c.

[5] It is among the most important covenants of a Tuscan lease, that one third of the ground be annually worked with a spade.

The _rotation of crops_, employs two periods of different length; the one of three, the other of five years. In the rotation of _three_ years, the ground is sown five times, and in that of four years, seven times, as follows.

First year, wheat, and after wheat lupins.

Second year wheat, and after wheat turnips.

Third year, Indian corn or millet.

First year, wheat, and after wheat beans.

Second year, wheat, and after wheat lupins.

Third year, wheat, and after wheat lupinella: (annual clover.)

Fourth year, Indian corn, or millet.

In the _Syanese Maremna_, where the lands want neither repose or manure, the constant alternation is _hemp_ and _wheat_, and the produce of the latter, often twenty-four bushels threshed, for one sown.